


A Gift From Mother Moon

by NestingHedwig_aka_LinW



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Christmas, Gen, Some profanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 14:45:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NestingHedwig_aka_LinW/pseuds/NestingHedwig_aka_LinW
Summary: On the Eve of Christmas 1981, a morose Remus Lupin wanders the streets of London.





	A Gift From Mother Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This story has not been beta read. Any mistakes are my own.  
> This story is based on characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended; no monetary gain will be made from this story.

~*~*~*~*~  
A/N: _Moony is speaking_

~*~*~*~*~  
Remus John Lupin walked aimlessly along the streets of London. He had been walking for hours with no destination in mind. It was Christmas Eve day, and the twenty-one year old wizard had nowhere to go. 

While it was not raining, it was still rather cold and damp. He plucked a knitted red hat from the bottomless shoulder bag he wore strapped across his chest and drew it down to cover his ears. He pulled his red and gold striped scarf closer around his throat, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his charity shop navy pea coat. He had forgotten to pack his gloves when he left home that morning.

It was the first Christmas he would spend alone, his pack having been shattered two months before. October 31 marked the date his life ceased to have much meaning. James Potter and his wife, Lily, had been murdered by Lord Voldemort that night, and Peter Pettigrew died two days later at the hands of a traitor. Harry James Potter, his precious little cub, was missing, seized by Albus Dumbledore and hidden away from escaped Death Eaters desiring revenge, and the adoring Wizarding world. But that also meant that little Harry was hidden away from Remus as well. 

And Sirius Black, damn him to Hell, was rotting in Azkaban.

 _Padfoot wouldn't,_ Moony growled from the recesses of Remus' mind. _Would never betray pack._

Maybe the Grim wouldn't have betrayed their pack, but Sirius Black certainly had, Remus thought. He still couldn't believe how thoroughly they had all been deceived by the prankster Gryffindor. Everyone foolishly bought into the myth of a white sheep in the Black family, and it had cost three of them their lives.

_Nononono._

Yes, Remus countered tersely, silencing Moony. He had gone over the night's events more times than he could count. Sirius had skated at the edge of sanity for as long as Remus had known him. Who sane would think it amusing to "prank" a fellow student with a werewolf on a full moon? Or laugh after blowing up poor Peter and thirteen innocent Muggles?

Had the Black Family madness finally consumed his former friend? Or had he just given into the Dark magic coursing through his veins?

Remus didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care. He was all alone, and Sirius was the cause of it.

~*~*~*~*~  
Remus sat on a bench, drinking a cup of lukewarm soup. He watched the crowds thin out as the shops began to shutter their windows and doors, relieved that the holiday shopping frenzy was finally winding down. Cheerful Muggles calling out "Happy Christmas" to everyone far and wide had only added to his feelings of depression and isolation. 

Remus rose, tossing the empty cup into a bin and finally took stock of his surroundings. He realized that he was close to The Leaky Cauldron. At this point, he might as well just stop in for a tankard of mulled cider and a bit of conversation with Tom. Maybe that would help take some of the loneliness away. 

_Not pack. Won't help,_ Moony disagreed, and Remus pretended he didn't hear.

As Remus walked on, the only shop that was still open was a small corner market that garishly announced, in flickering neon lights, that it never closed. They had handwritten signs in the window reminding the public that they would be open Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and New Year's Eve for last minute holiday needs. 

At the next cross street, Remus turned left. He was now on Charing Cross Road, a block away from The Leaky Cauldron and the hidden entrance to Wizarding London. 

Charing Cross was a street filled with new, used, and antiquarian bookshops, and the bookish werewolf often spent hours browsing in the shops. No matter how bad his life was, the shops had always brought comfort to him.

Even though the bookseller was currently closed, Remus peered through the security gates at the contents of a display window filled with the latest Muggle best sellers and holiday-themed books set against a backdrop of silver paper snowflakes and white fairy lights. He had once worked at this shop, until he had been sacked for missing too many days during the full moon.

 _Can't eat books,_ Moony whispered, and Remus ignored him.

Remus moved on to view the next shop window at a used book emporium. They had turned off their holiday display, so he tried to read the book titles by the ambient light of the street lamps.

The sudden sound of squealing automotive brakes drew his attention away from the window display. Halfway down the block, a boxy grey sedan pulled haphazardly into an empty space in front of the record shop. The front end of the sedan straddled the curb and the boot was sticking half into the traffic lane.

A large, overweight man exited the vehicle, and looked furtively around. His head swiveled between the record shop and the bookstore, muttering under his breath. Because the man was standing in front of the hidden entrance to The Leaky Cauldron, and acting damned suspicious, Remus ducked into a doorway, and watched the man from a distance, unconsciously releasing his cypress and unicorn hair wand from his wrist holster

Cursing about freaks ruining his holidays, the man pulled a large box from the back seat of the sedan. He stared at the two shops for a moment before cursing once more. The obese man looked quickly up and down the street once again, but did not see Remus hiding in the darkness. 

Remus heard a soft whimpering sound that stopped abruptly when the man roughly shook the box. The man disappeared into the narrow alley beside the record shop.

What the hell was in the box, Remus wondered as he watched the man reappear onto the sidewalk empty-handed and hurry back to his car. A moment later, the sedan backed into the road and sped away, barely missing a collision with a taxicab. The taxi driver laid on his horn; the harsh sound was painful to Remus' sensitive ears.

"Idiot," Remus spat. 

The soft whimpers were getting louder as Remus walked toward the alley to investigate. Had a box of kittens or puppies had been abandoned by the strange man? The wizard walked past the entrance to the pub and the record store, not knowing what he would do with them, but unwilling to let defenseless creatures die, especially on Christmas Eve.

Remus rounded the dimly lit corner in time to see the box shudder and rock as whatever was trapped inside fought to escape its prison. But the sturdy cardboard box, with the company name Grunnings Drills printed on each side, was sealed with three straps of clear packing tape. The little creature or creatures would never be able to fight their way free.

There was something handwritten in thick black marker on the top of the box, but before Remus could make out what it said, the box rocked again. He could hear something pounding rhythmically on the inside. The top of the box bowed up slightly. 

A loud, frustrated howl erupted from inside the container and both Remus and Moony realized, at the same moment, that it was not a cat or a dog trapped in the box. A tiny human hand was reaching out through one of the handles cut in the sides of the box.

 _It's a cub! It's a cub! It's a cub!_ Moony howled. _Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!_

~*~*~*~*~  
Crouching beside the vibrating box, Remus reached out to steady it. His jaw dropped as he finally read the words scrawled on the top flap of the box in large capital letters

TO: DIMBLEWIMBLE  
THANKS, BUT NO THANKS!

The words "NO THANKS" had been underlined three times. Son of a bitch! That overweight meat bag had just thrown away a human child. He felt Moony's raw hatred try rise to the surface, and he forced his alter ego down. Now was not the time for rage.

"Stop moving, little one," he addressed the box. "I'm going to get you out of there." 

The box stilled. Using his wand, Remus carefully cut the thick packing tape on both sides of the lid. Not wanting to risk a slicing charm to the top of the box, he slid his fingertips into the newly fashioned gap and pulled the flaps apart. 

Peering into the box, the first thing Remus saw was a little backside and feet wearing red fleece footed sleepers. The rest of the small body was submerged in the folds of a torn, dingy off-white duvet, which had been shoved haphazardly into the box. The toddler had been attempting to kick open the top of the box.

Before the young wizard could reach into the box and rescue the tiny child, the red-clad toddler squirmed in the duvet nest and righted itself. A tuft of messy dark hair popped over the flap of the box, followed shortly by two little hands. Pushing up, the toddler stood, balancing precariously on the uneven duvet. The child stared up at Remus, a flushed little face streaked with tears and snot. 

"Hawwy out?" 

The toddler looked up at Remus with pleading green eyes, and reached up with his hands. The movement unbalanced him and he tumbled backwards into the padded box, landing on his bottom. 

Seventeen-month-old Harry James Potter giggled, showing a mouthful of little white teeth.

 _Cubcubcubcubcub!_

If his internal Moony had an actual tail, it would have been wagging.

Remus, himself, was in shock. Serendipity, coincidence, happenstance - whatever you wanted to call it - just didn't happen in real life. Only in the cheesiest of Muggle fiction did the hero miraculously (and bravely) rescue the object of his desire from unspeakable evil. The abject improbability of the situation...

 _Stop over thinking things, you daft bastard,_ Moony growled. _Accept that Mother Moon has gifted us with a miracle, and pick him the fuck up!_

"Hawwy up?"

This time, Remus did not hesitate. He gathered Harry into his arms and held him tight. Conjuring a damp cloth from a piece of pocket lint, he gently wiped the tear tracks and mucous from the beloved little face. He kissed the top of Harry's head, breathing in the scent of his cub, the scent of his pack.

_Cubcubcubcubcub!_

Harry's ice cold fingers petted his cheek and Remus realized the footed sleeper was poor protection against the damp London night. He unbuttoned his pea coat and tucked his cub in against his chest for warmth.

Remus' attention went back to the Grunnings Drills box. He reread the handwritten message, mulling it over. 

TO: DIMBLEWIMBLE  
THANKS, BUT NO THANKS!

Dimblewimble. Could they have meant Albus Dumbledore? 

Thanks, but no thanks. Did that imply the return of an unwanted gift?

Grunnings Drills. The name Grunnings didn't really mean anything to him, but drills seemed vaguely familiar. Remus racked his memories for the mention of drills. Lily once mentioned that her sister, Petunia, had married a man who sold drills.

And then it clicked, and Remus swallowed the growl that threatened to erupt. He did not want to scare Harry.

Dumbledore had apparently given Harry to Lily's sister and her husband. Petunia hated magic. Petunia hated Lily. What could possibly make Dumbledore think Petunia wouldn't also hate Harry? His brilliant idea to protect Harry against Death Eaters was to place him with magic hating Muggles? That senile, lemon drop sucking...

 _Fuck Dimblewimble and fuck everyone else!_ Moony growled. _We are taking our cub home where he belongs._

And Remus was in total agreement with Moony for the first time in a long time. He transfigured the torn duvet into a hooded snowsuit to keep his cub warm, switching the dingy off-white color to a festive red. Escaping clumps of the fiberfill stuffing lying at the bottom of the box became green mittens and a hat.

He contemplated the empty Grunnings Drills box. 

_Burn it! Let me rip out the meat bag's throat!_

You're not helping, Remus thought, as he shrunk the box and tucked it into his bottomless bag. If he was accused of kidnapping, he would need it as proof of abandonment. Proof that Harry had been thrown away when an crazy Muggle couldn't find the hidden entrance to The Leaky Cauldron. 

In the most abnormal of ways, Petunia's husband had tried to return Harry to the magical world.

The next full moon didn't fall until January 9th, so he had two weeks to put a plan in action. He no longer trusted Dumbledore to do what was in Harry's best interest, and the Ministry of Magic, as well as the common witch or wizard, would never take the word of a werewolf over that of the adored old man of too many titles. That left him Gringotts Bank or one of the outlier Blacks.

The goblins wouldn't dismiss his concerns, just because he was a werewolf, but they might not want to get involved in what they considered Wizard Politics. The only way they might help is if they considered little Harry to be worth more as an asset than as an heir. While not the most ideal option, he couldn't dismiss them out of hand.

That left the Blacks, and he would have to tread very carefully with them. Too many of them were Death Eaters, Death Eater sympathizers, Dark wizards, Pureblood fanatics, or just bat-shit crazy. He would need to contact one of the squib lines or one of the disinherited to find someone willing to accept a Half-blood child (and perhaps a friendly Half-blood werewolf) into the fold.

And then he smiled. He knew exactly who to contact. Sirius' cousin had been thrown out of the family for eloping with a Muggleborn wizard. Andromeda Tonks, nee Black, was not a fan of either Lord Voldemort or Albus Dumbledore. She was deadly with both her wit and her wand, and if memory served, was a Pediatric Healer at St. Mungo's. If anyone could help him champion Harry, it would be Andromeda.

 _Maybe she'll help us tear out Dimblewimble's throat, too,_ Moony growled and Remus snickered. Bad, bad wolf, he thought, affectionately. 

She wouldn't have to be quite that vicious, Remus thought, but he wouldn't mind if she knocked Dumbledore on his arse a time or two. 

Tentative plan in place, it was time to go home and celebrate Christmas with his cub.

With a sleepy Harry riding securely on his hip, Remus Lupin stepped out of the alley and on to Charing Cross Road, walking away from Wizarding London. The corner market that never closed would surely have nappies and a carton of milk for sale.

And maybe a little plushy reindeer or wolf to stick under his non-existent Christmas Tree.

~*~*~*~*~  
FIN


End file.
